blogging


My best friend talked me past my fear of buying on credit nearly three years ago when I purchased the 15 in Macbook that I use for most of my writing and blogging and general time wasting on the Internet. She convinced me that it was a reward for having completed my masters and securing a rather substantial pay raise in doing so. I hadn’t yet realized the money. My school district had established a policy of waiting to move people on the pay scale to mid-year where degree advancements were involved. I went from a B.A. 15 to a M.A. 30, so I suppose that deserved a bit of self-gifting. But I was never easy with credit. Over the years I had gradually lifted my self-imposed credit limits. It was sitting at an all time high of $2000 – and that’s total by the way not per card – because my parents had reneged on a promise to loan me the funds necessary for getting my masters in the first place. I’d had to charge the last few courses. The computer purchase was on my list of things to do in the spring, when I’d paid my folks back and gotten the credit paid off, but BFF’s arguments made sense. She pointed out that I really wasn’t as financially insolvent as I felt and that the sale price (one of those day after Thanksgiving things) made it silly for me to wait and then pay full price.

In the end the purchase was more a reward than I could have known. I had been using a desktop that was in my bedroom. When you are single, it really doesn’t matter where your office is. Dee was still sleeping with me and I couldn’t really be on the computer once she was in bed for the night because the light kept her up. The mac allowed me the freedom of wi-fi and I was able to be anywhere in the house. Without the freedom, I would not have been able to pursue my initial friendship with Rob to the extent that I did.

I often credit Steve Jobs – via the iPod/iTunes – with saving my sanity during the bleak months of hospice and early months of widowhood, but I guess he also deserves a nod for facilitating the courtship of Rob and I.

The mac though is suffering from the dreaded bluetooth is unavailable syndrome. It is a design flaw in the macs that Apple doesn’t seem to care enough about to fix because it strikes randomly and usually can be short-fixed for brief time spans if one is patient enough to put up with it and really enamored of her mighty mouse. The bluetooth issue will eventually result in the mac not being able to enter sleep mode because the bluetooth is constantly pinging for connection. Rob discovered that he could go in and either reroute the wire or disable it completely (that is the only real fix), but he wants me to find the paperwork to see if it is still under warranty first and then drag it over to the Apple store at the mega-mall. I am fairly certain that the latter will be a waste of time. I have availed myself of the genius bar at Apple’s stores before and found the techs to be just that – techs. If the problem is software, they might be able to help, but it it is hardware, they are useless and being where we are it would mean weeks without a computer because it would have to be sent away for repair.

Being without my mac is not all that much of a hardship. There are more computers in our house than people. In fact in my office right now, there are four computers. We may not watch television, but we are hardly media Luddites. I just don’t feel much like making the effort for the sake of being able to use a wireless mouse. It’s rather a small issue.

However, I will back up the data to the external hard drive and have at a search for the Apple warranty papers. Rob is actually quite busy with his mom’s computer issues (she drove out of her way on a recent trip just to bring both her computers her for Rob to repair) and this is keeping him from the stone work on the house, which has to be finished before snow flies. He discovered this last week that he could conceivable get his transfer after the first of the year and we don’t have time to mess around with the reno and the purging. It’s past time to be serious about getting ready for a big move.

I am a little disappointed with the mac. I used PC’s at work and dealt with issues constantly and expected better from Mr. Jobs and Co. Still, three years is a good run with a computer. I will run it into the ground though before doing anything as drastic as replacing it.


A friend tagged me for a meme. A friend who is thoughtful, insightful and kind. Though I have kinda given up meme’ng, I could not refuse her.

my-storyYvonne Fong is a gifted young writer who is in danger of losing her sight to neurofibromatosis 2.  It is a genetic disorder that causes the rampant growth of tumors, which in Yvonne’s case have already robbed her of her hearing. You can read more about her story here and here, and watch her tell her story.

Having lost a husband to a genetic illness, I know full well that many genetic diseases are too rare or affect too few people to attract the attention of researchers or are well-known to doctors, who often end up misdiagnosing or being unqualified to treat patients who have them. You can help Yvonne by visiting her website where there is information about her quest to raise funds for her surgery and by passing along this meme in hopes that someone with the ability to help her might read it.

 

If you choose to help, please follow these meme rules:

1. Create a blog entry titled “Meme: Save Yvonne’s Sight”
2. List three things you love to see. Add in the picture of Yvonne’s book cover. The URL is http://www.yvonnefoong.com/images/banner/my-story.jpg
3. End with the line, “Yvonne Foong is in danger of losing her eyesight thanks to neurofibromatosis (NF). Please find out how you can help her by visiting her blog at http://www.yvonnefoong.com.”
4. Tag 5 blog friends. Be sure to copy the rules, please :)*

 

*I don’t tag people anymore. Meme, or not, as the spirit directs you.


I used to participate in a Wednesday blogging exercise inspired by Julie Pippert called The Hump Day Hmmm. She would chose a topic, blog about it and invite others to join in and link their opinion pieces to her blog. It’s been a long while since she’s been that active in the sphere, but I kinda miss those op-ed opportunities.

I haven’t anything to “hmmm” about that I haven’t bored you all with before and recently too. There is my heightened suspicions about the decline and eventual fall of the status quo I know as my native land, and my feelings about their moral ambiguity when it comes to the decency of a government run health care system as opposed to the haphazard system there is now, which is little more than capitalist driven rationing and a lot more like death panels than any of the opposition is smart enough to realize.

If I were to resurrect the Wednesday option of  “hmming”, what topics should I cover? I will open the comments to suggestions today. Politics? Paranoid conspiracy theories on world dominance? Love and relationships? Movies? Books? Writing?

Dreams, vivid and utterly nonsensical, have been exhausting me nightly again. Rob thinks I should write them down. Not because he thinks some pattern or theme will emerge, but because they are so completely strange in a head tilting, entertainment sort of way. Like the one I had Monday night about living in a castle in what appeared to be medieval England. Rob was the lord of the estate where we lived and I was perpetually moving from one room to the next, cleaning, organizing servants, children and various relations who seemed incapable of being anything but underfoot. Oh, and Rob looked like Colin Firth. Only it was Rob.

“It was Colin Firth,” Rob said when I told him about the dream.

“No,” I said, “it was one of those dreams where people I know look like someone else but are still who I think they are, which is very confusing but is a clue that I am just dreaming.”

“I think you have a thing for Colin Firth,” he says knowingly. “Maybe we should rethink that celebrities we are allowed to have sex with list.”

I totally nixed the idea of a celebrity exemption list a long time ago. First, it’s based on a ridiculous premise and second, I don’t share. I don’t care who or what the circumstances. I don’t share.

“No,” I reply.

“C’mon,” Rob teases me, “you know you want to.”

“No, I don’t. It’s a dumb idea and I have no interest in entertaining it.”

“So, I guess that means I can’t have a list?”

Somehow I don’t think celebrity exemption lists are high-minded enough for “hmmming” though they do meet the ‘hump” requirement.

Shall I “hmmm” on Wednesdays for a while? And will you join me?